I am, Lord.
Once broken,
But gathered, repainted, renamed.
The wind swept
Through the corners of my soul
And took away pain, resentment, and sorrow.
Your mercy and grace adorn my windows,
The wind chimes of my existence
Are vibrant and alive with Your song.
Vessel at Your feet,
I am, my King,
Eternal clay
Molded by the hands of Your glory.
Copyright © 2015 Cristina Miller
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